Honestly a Glorified Diary

I can't promise that all of it will be happy, but it will all be true.

[illinicoise]

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

[spn-fandom-breathing-heavily]

not even risking that shit

[codyslipring-deactivated2015060]

scrolled past this, re-evaluated my life, then SCROOOLLLED back up and hit the damn reblog button. 

[tumblgang]

She ain’t no games in real life so I take her serious all the time

Anyone with a name that starts with a “Z”, ends with an “i”, and isn’t some kind of Italian pasta, IS SERIOUS

I’m not climbing no mountain with a pig on my back, 🙅🏽🙅🏾🙅🏿 Negative.

[skuubasally]

Nope. I know better, have your reblog Madame Zeroni.

[luckytaters]

who the fuck is Madame Zeroni

[saudadesinfinitas-deactivated20]

Look at these stupid children who don’t know who Madame Zeroni is

[drayaintshit-deactivated2019030]

☝🏾😂

[callmedeku24]

Man lissen if you don’t know you better ask somebody AFTER you hit the reblog button

[emeraldmercury]

Idk who she is but I have an exam today so I’ll reblog her

[haiku-robot]

idk who she is but i have an exam today so i’ll reblog her

^Haiku^bot^0.4. Sometimes I do stupid things (but I have improved with syllables!). Beep-boop!

[jacobmick]

Because wise, I am.

[seymonecristina]

Oh fucks no she’s back lmao must reblog. I’m sorry guys

[blackgirlart]

2 million people aren’t wrong

[kiiboi-v3-blog]

Zeroni sounds like a fancy kind of pasta :’) im so sorry

[theytrey]

Ooc/ I love this book and movie so much oh my god

[carryonmywaywardcaptain]

This post was liked when it appeared on my dash, so I know I’ve reblogged, but I’m not about to mess with her!

Also, these poor youths who have no idea 😭

[rauggra]

Sorry for being superstitious but hey, this is 2020.

[aljustal]

… It’s 2020

[dealanexmachina]

If I send her some splooge and onions it should be fine, right?

[keenmarvellover]

Nearly 3 million have reblogged this thing. Not taking a risk.

[vadergf]

Idk who she is but my life is a fucking nightmare and I’m not taking any chances

[ladyvesuvia]

i dont get it

[maybanksslut]

omg ves search it up

[miridiums-writing]

I refuse for 2021 to be anything like 2020, so I shall put my trust in Madame Zeroni

[memeingcheetah27]

i like being able to live life’s bad as it is no thanks

[tommysparker]

can’t risk it sorry

[cade-the-god]

sorry no risks here

[k1ngan0n]

Risk taker? Wrong person

[nightingalestakeflight-deactiva]

it’s 2021 and this hellscape aint ded yet

[ilove-evanpeters]

paranoid help

[insufferable-yapper]

It’s 2022 and this world is a hellscape. I am obviously going to reblog this. I wen back and took out all negatives because it is in my best interest to only have positives. I, also, made sure to have the best grammar and spelling I could. We have to be safe. Thank you.

[directlyat-thesun-moved]

I want a curse! Curses are cool! But I’m reblogging this to say that.

…shit.

[sailors-fightinginthedancehall]

3.5 million people are never wrong

[worldheritagepostorganization]

World Heritage Post

[octobergrae-deactivated20230422]

I’ve had the WORST time of my life since 2020 and I AM NOT taking any chances of it getting worse than this. Madame Zeroni, here’s your reblog.

[anywigwilldo]

Reblog, click the picture, and prepare for battle.

[vikingserket]

after a while i became convinced that the words were mocking me

[whisperrun-blog]

Nothing happened. 

I WAS PROMISED A BATTLE

*throws down gauntlet*

Edit: Went back. This is the best thing to happen to my dashboard ever.

[whisperrun-blog]

Reblogging again because my followers need to see this. To be clear, rebog, go to your actual blog, then click the picture. 

[gettinglost-inthewords]

I'm always questioned why I like rainy days,

why the afternoons of mist and grey make me smile and want to dance,

and I've never understood.

What's not to love?

Why shouldn't I celebrate the new life and the promise of future life that rain brings?

Why is it absurd that I enjoy looking over the horizon and seeing the greens and blues darkened just a bit, and seeing the edges of the world around me softened?

Why does my love of the rejuvenation of the world around me give you pause?

The sound of rain rhythmically hitting the windows and walls around me lulls me into the music of the world. I can dance and skip and twirl to the flow around me, the pulse of life and the Earth herself singing to me.

There's nothing gloomy about the petrichor that soothes my aching lungs and throat. Shimmering notes of ozone that remind me to slow down and breathe a little deeper; take a little longer to appreciate the moment around me.

So you ask me, why do I like rainy days?

Because the world is singing to me, and it's time to listen.

[gettinglost-inthewords]

Voices

Does someone's voice ever get stuck in your head?

The way they pronounce the 'h' in 'what' or their personal lilt on the letter 'l'?

Not even just the way they speak, but the specific vibrations of their vocal cords that meet your ear in the prefect place?

Yours does.

You're 300 miles away but I can hear your voice as clear as you were next to me, sipping one too many drinks before we head home and fall asleep because we stayed out too late, again, and have to work in the morning.

I've read the poems about people hearing someone's laugh or seeing a smile and being entranced by it, but your presence is so different to me. I hear the way you pronounce the 'ck' in 'fuck' and can't help but feel joy bubbling up in my chest and a giggle escape through my lips. The way you notice and say it again just to hear me giggle once more. The way your voice softens when the world isn't watching is like the moment between the tide going out and the tide coming in; the still and calm of something so powerful yanks my focus right to you.

Hearing you say 'good night' sends shivers down my spine because, even if you don't intend it, it feels like more of a prayer than a nicety. Society dictates we say it before closing our eyes but you say it in the hope that I really will have a good night. That my dreams will be peaceful and my sleep restful. And even nights like this, when we're apart instead of tucked away at home, 'good night' is so much more than that.

Do you ever crave hearing someone's voice?

[gettinglost-inthewords]

I crave vulnerability.

I feel like my soul is ripped open and my walls are down and everything I am is reaching for someone or something to make me feel connected. And I'm terrified that I'll never find it.

To be connected to someone like that, to feel like the layers of security I've covered myself in are gone and I can finally breathe, even for a moment, is an action that was so commonplace for me only a few years ago. I was drawn to people that I could connect to in an instant.

But it was selfish. I took those connections and ran them dry. Once they were dry I got bored and left.

It might be time to just let myself run a bit dry and learn to live.

[againstacecilia]

Being home is weird.

But it isn’t really home. It’s where the old version of me grew up. It’s where I had my first kiss and my first heartache. It holds so much emotion.

The walls and floors of this house are permeated with thoughts and feelings and they haven’t dissipated. They feel as strong now as they did 6 years ago.

Half of me misses it, half of me is screaming to go home and remember who I am. Remember my achievements and growth. But the first half is relishing in the familiarity of the emotion and confusion. Nostalgia crashes over me and sweeps me off my feet. Makes me wonder:

What if?

[gettinglost-inthewords]

Loving Yourself is Suddenly Revolutionary

I need to learn to love myself again.

I need to learn to grab hold of those moments when the fire inside of me is burning bright and fan it. Give it oxygen.

Give it life. 

Because I deserve that. I deserve to remember what it was like to enjoy the touch of someone who cared and wanted me for me. 

I’ve gotten bogged down in the memories of being smothered by fear and control and have forgotten the memories of my eyes being looked deeply into and hearing things about me that I never dared to believe.

“You’re so beautiful”

“This feels so right”

“I love you”

I want the rush of hands tracing my back and whispers in my ear sending shivers and tremors to places long repressed by pain that suddenly are opened by love. 

And warmth. 

I want to stop being so scared of my body and remember what it was like to admire myself in the mirror. On the same hand, to remember what it was like to take care of my body because I loved it, not because I hate it. I want to love the scars and marks on my skin that remind me not of the places I feel stuck in but of the battles I’ve fought and won. 

Because that’s what I deserve. That’s what we all deserve on this rock we call a planet. Society pushes and pulls at us from every angle to stop being this or to be better at that and it takes so long for us to stop and really consider; why do we fucking care? Why is what’s forced on us so important that we rip hair from our skin and starve ourselves? Why is there enough weight to society that we carve into our skin and poison ourselves to escape? We run so far and for so long that we forget why we’re running. 

Well I’m going to stop running away. It’s gotten me no where. Everything I’ve accomplished and all the challenges I’ve face have been from facing adversity head on and it’s time to make that permanent. I’m going to stop beating myself up for slips and use them to learn. I’m going to have the same compassion for myself that I have for those around me. 

I’m going to love myself, unconditionally, and remember what it’s like to be happy. 

[gettinglost-inthewords]

Flashback

While holding my breath and counting my steps

I race past the corner where we spoke when I was drunk.

I duck out of the store when I see the back of your head because

Even now

I can still feel your hands on my waist

And your breath on my ear

And it isn’t sensual

It’s controlling

It’s the weight of your body crushing me into submission

It’s the tone of your voice leading me to the only ending you’d accept

It’s the beating of my heart and the straining of my breath when I tried to ask you to stop and I begged you to let me go but the answer was always

No.

Don’t you love me?

You did it yesterday.

Again

And again

And again and again until it’s all I can hear like the pounding of a drum

Except it’s my heart again

And my racing breath.

And your hands suddenly caressing parts of me that you’ve claimed for your own even though you never asked.

And I’m weak and sobbing silently in the bathroom, but I only have a couple of minutes before your hands and lips are searching for more and I’m drained.

Of energy

Of care

Of life. 

Of breath.

And the morning comes and you make me breakfast and somehow twist the night before into love and passion and I’m lost because I thought passion was good

And life giving.

But once again I can’t move my arms and my legs are trembling and the bruises blossoming from my shoulders and neck aren’t tokens of your uncontrollable desire for my body and soul

But for control

And power

And I ritually cover them up and lie to my reflection that my experience is just how love works. 

And I look into my own eyes and know I’m lying but lying was easier than the truth.

And I lie to my friends and those that know me best when they tell me you’re no good and that your love is a facade for the real monster that lies beneath the crooked smile and the ice blue eyes that used to pierce my heart and give me butterflies

Those butterflies

They’ve turned to hornets and wasps and they’re stinging and biting and turning my blood to poison and I just lay in bed, begging for it all to end and praying that the darkness outside the window swallows me whole but it never does.

The light comes and changes the room I fear into the innocuous floor and ceiling and walls that hide my shame and guilt and the sunlight somehow masks the evil and venom that saturated the night before.

And the night before.

And the night before.

And I just know,

When the sun goes way,

Just like the beating of the drum,

It always

Starts

Again.

[gettinglost-inthewords]

Burning Bright

2017 has been a year of learning.

Learning a new job, Learning how to be an adult, Learning about me.

It’s been a struggle learning about myself though. There are a few things I’ve learned that I wish I hadn’t. Or maybe that I wish weren’t true I’m not sure. 

I lack a lot of the independence I thought I had. I lack some of the strength I thought I had.  I’m not nearly as secure in what I thought I wanted in life. 

I find myself wrapped up in Friends and How I Met Your Mother because these shows are telling me stories I wish I had. I wish I had been brave enough to go out and venture farther than Moscow Idaho. I am watching these characters live a life I never thought I’d make it to in the first place and now I wish that I had. I found myself on this path with a degree, a job, and a ring on my finger and all of a sudden I’m unsure if it’s the path I want. 

A few weeks ago I was talking with a friend about our mutual high school friends. Where they were now, where we thought they might’ve been then. Why they weren’t in our lives now. We came to the conclusion that sometimes friendships burn really bright but burn out quickly. That those friendships we took so seriously in high school are bright-burners. But what if I’m the one that burns? What if there’s something in me that pushes and fans the fire?

And then that happened. I pushed too hard and I fanned the flames and burned right on through. 

Right on schedule.

[wordsnquotes]

the thing you are most afraid to write. write that.

Nayyirah Waheed (via wordsnquotes)

[gettinglost-inthewords]

There are so many ways to put the 26 letters of the English alphabet together.

Maybe that’s what makes it so hard.

[gettinglost-inthewords]

Making It

Today was just a making-it-through kind of day.

While working through crises with clients I was working through my own demons. Surprising me with how loud and strong they were today, I tamed them with fantasizing about things I haven’t fantasized about in a while.

Razors

Drugs

Cigarettes

Depression is a fickle thing. Anxiety has been my near constant companion for as long as I can remember. Depression, though, is more prone to random visits. These visits can span hours to weeks, their intensity just as varied. The hypersensitivity of anxiety can be taken care of and funneled into almost superhuman powers of awareness and problem solving. When you expect the worst to happen all the time, you’re ready for any and all scenarios that could arise. With depression, you’re left wondering why it even matters you have a Plan A, let alone a Plan B-Z. 

Why would I want to go to work to help people when I can’t help myself?

Why would it matter if I kept this conversation going?

Why should I eat?

Why?

Resiliency is hard. Being depressed is easy. Your one focus is how depressed you are. Resiliency means you have to focus on eating. And staying hydrated. And censoring your thoughts. And staying vigilant in keeping away from the bathroom, for a multitude of reasons. And so many other things. 

Day 236 of 365. 

[gettinglost-inthewords]

I Am Stronger

When you knocked on the door and you wanted back in, You said you couldn’t live without the touch of my skin. I should’ve known better than to think you had changed somehow.

You kept telling me that the past was in the past Even though you kept on seeing her behind my back Stupid little girl with dreams of forever Got caught up in the lies when I should’ve been clever

Oh, I guess you got what you wanted Better her than me, that much you made clear Looking back on it now, I wouldn’t have it any other way You had your chance, now I’m taking mine back You’re on your own now Karma’s a bitch I hope you recognize the shot that you missed, Because if I get my way You won’t get anymore.

Always dragging me down and calling me names I know you thought it was just come kind of game. Jokes on you, though, I’m winning this round My voice will rise up, my message resounds

Never again will I fall to your feet Never again will I let you make me Doubt myself, or lose myself In you or in anyone who thinks that they know me

Oh, I guess you got what you wanted Better her thank me, that much you made clear Looking back on it now, I wouldn’t have it any other way You had your chance, now I’m taking mine back. You’re on your own now Karma’s a bitch I hope you recognized the shot that you missed Because if I get my way, You won’t be getting anymore.

I am stronger. I am stronger for this. I am stronger. And I won’t ever let myself forget it.

[gettinglost-inthewords]

Recovery

During recovery, they like to tell you about this magical time in the future where things are okay again. Where you’ll enjoy getting up in the morning, or at least you won’t wish you hadn’t woken up. A time that the sun is awe-inspiring and the birds’ morning songs cause your heart to swell with the joy of life.

Sure. That happens. I have gotten there.

The problem comes when I find myself annoyed by those days. Where my chest grasps for the familiarity of the pain because getting through it meant that I had overcome something. It meant I was a warrior. 

Now I just feel... Normal.

Like any other person that gets up to go to work. Like any other person wishes they could hit the snooze one more time or go for a trip with their friends. Like all the work I put in doesn’t show because my scars healed better than other people’s and I don’t “look” like someone who battles the thoughts of an ED every day. 

I was told so many times that my skies would brighten again.  No one told me that the clouds clearing meant that I had to become like everyone else. 

I miss the battle, but if I slip back again I’m not a warrior; I’m a relapse.

[gettinglost-inthewords]

A Letter to My Anxiety

Here we are. 21 years on this floating rock and I've finally accepted you as mine. Its not just "I'm dealing with some anxiety" or "I'm just having a bad mental health day, I'll be better tomorrow." It's finally "I have anxiety." My anxiety. I claim you as my own and am starting to live life with you in tow like a puppy I have to raise. I have to raise you and all the while raise myself. I have to train you to be quiet when we're in class and all you're telling me is how poorly I'm doing. I have to train myself to ignore you when you're throwing a temper tantrum and go on with my day. I have to put you to bed in time to put myself to bed, just so we can wake up to another exhausting day of training each other. There are days where I remember how quiet you are when I've got a bottle in my hand. How good you acted when I threatened to carve you out of myself with shiny razors across my skin. How you didn't believe me until I did it and boy did that get you. How you'd howl along with my stomach when I wouldn't feed either of you, but eventually be subdued when the rest of my body was too tired to help you get my attention. I ache for that silence. I crave sleep when you sleep with me. I yearn for the time when glasses full of amber liquid would turn you into a purring kitty, or maybe that was just my inhibition lulling you to sleep so she could come out and play. I say these next words with all the emotion I shouldn't be feeling: I hate my "safe coping skills". The razors are like the friends my mother warned me about, the alcohol the buddies I found to replace those razors. But to the rest of the world, you are silent. You bother no one else, choosing only to consistently rip apart my resolve while whispering "You know you can't fight me for much longer. Why try? I've always been with you and I promise, I will never leave." Every once in a while, you throw in extra jabs to keep me on my toes. "He'll eventually get bored, you know" along with "See? She left you too. If you can't help her, how the hell are you supposed to help yourself?" Eventually I'll be able to write a letter and end it with "I will always overcome" but, for now, all I can say is I survived today. You might win tomorrow, but I won today. And really, that's all I can ask for.

[letsgoyoutubing-deactivated2018]

the difference between “love you” and “I love you” is so profound and I don’t know why

[gettinglost-inthewords]

Because the "I" in "I love you" is a commitment. "Love you" is so offhand.

[gettinglost-inthewords]

This is going to be graphic and possibly triggering. Be warned.

I have to admit, the next few months are a blur. I can't tell if that's because nothing really exciting happened, or if it's a defense mechanism...

The end of the year comes along and we find ourselves once again in each other's presence. Pulled to one another by something neither of us can really explain, but the memory of our first kiss still at the forefront of our minds. Sneaking kisses backstage, hiding in the theater room until everyone left, staying with each other until the last possible moments to get all the time together we could. 

But that's when it started. Making out would lead to more and when I'd draw the line you'd listen. At first. You were never physically forceful but you knew just how to make me tick. 

"You let me touch you down there but you won't let me have sex with you? What's the difference?" "You'll like it, I promise." "Just trust me. You trust me, right?"

Trust. If only I had been smart enough to see you didn't deserve my trust. Every once in a while you'd broach the subject of anal and I'd always turn it down. It was never something I wanted to do but you were adamant that you wanted it. "If you loved me" you'd say. "Just once". "Trust me".

Your slender fingers traced over my back as I lied on my stomach. "Did you think about it?" you asked. I had. I thought about all the ways you would pout if I said no again. How long I would get the cold shoulder until you either fell asleep or I gave in. I thought about how you told me to trust you. I did trust you, and that night ended with my silent tears and you finishing in the bathroom.

Condoms were rarely an option. "They don't feel as good." "I'm clean though so it's okay." "Don't worry, I'll pull out." But you didn't always make it in time. One week you left and we "said goodbye", and your timing was off. Nausea. Dizziness. Overeating. Late period. I was too young to go through a pregnancy scare but there it was. On top of it, I was alone. I knew deep down that you wouldn't be there if that little white and pink stick showed a plus sign. Alone and scared I waited it out until I knew for sure. 

In the new year, I want to forget you. I want to not remember your cold hands on my body. I don't want to freeze up every time I get intimate with my love. I don't want to cry every time I don't feel like having sex and have to make up excuses that not even Colt needs. I want sex to really be about the love that Colt is trying to show me rather than fearing it. I want to remember that Colt thinks I'm the sexiest woman in his life. I want to be able to have sex with the lights on, instead of hiding in the dark like you always did. 

I WILL be happy again. I WILL find the strength to put everything you put me through out of my mind. I WILL remember that I am safe now. And above all:

I WILL recover.